Visit
by michellewritesfics
Summary: Castiel hasn't been on Earth for a while, so he takes a day off from his heavenly duties to check up on the Winchesters. Castiel finds that one of them isn't too happy to see him, but Castiel can live with it. After all, it's the Winchesters he's meeting. Prequel to It's a Vessel Problem. Oneshot.


A/N: So, this is a request from ChevyImpalla1967! :D

The prompt was just something concerning a lake monster and Castiel meeting up with the Winchesters. I didn't intend this to be another sick!fic, but it did… oh, well. I guess you can consider this a prequel to another story I made, It's a Vessel Problem.

I don't own anything~

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He hadn't seen the Winchesters in a while. In fact, the longer he had been away from meeting the brothers, the more he thought about them. He just missed them. Simple as that. It didn't need any explaining or anything like that; Castiel missed the Winchester boys.

A thought formed in his head. He should surprise them with a visit. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything to do. Heaven was doing quite well under his control. Ever since he became God, everything seemed to fall into place. Fall into place oh, so gracefully.

Castiel searched around the empty plain of utopia, _his_ utopia, and produced a small smile, satisfied with himself and what he had done with it. A snap of his fingers sent him away from his wonderland to Earth; a place full of disgustingly beautiful creatures. Humans.

He was in an empty motel room. Though, it certainly wasn't occupied. The beds weren't made and empty beer bottles grouped on one of the tables and some were planted on the television. A laptop was resting one of the beds and he realized that it was still on. Curious, Castiel stepped closer to the bed and leaned over to see the contents of the screen. A page featuring a lake monster. Mumbling the words of the article to himself, the angel-turned-God heard the door slam from behind him. He quickly turned his head with shock, backing away from the laptop.

His shock vanished when he saw his favorite hunters. But something was wrong. They're _drenched_. And they smelt like seaweed. "Erm… hello, Sam. Dean. Why are you-"

"Shut up, Cas!" Dean barked out, lugging his body into the room with extreme effort. He heard Sam call dibs on taking the first shower. "Dude!" He shouted, a tremendous groan escaping his mouth. "Fine. Just hurry the hell up," he commented in a much lower tone, but his tone was still the same. Sam went into the bathroom and the older brother released a growl. Dean managed to approach the nearest bed, which happened to have the laptop on it, and gestured Castiel to move it. When the angel did so, Dean plummeted on the bed, letting the bedsheets soak the water from him.

"Another hunt, Dean?" Castiel asked and witnessed Dean nod. He placed the laptop on the other bed and sat at the edge of the mattress Dean was occupying. "What happened?"

Dean scratched the back of his ear, his face contorting into one of annoyance when Castiel asked. He just didn't want to deal with anything right now. At this moment, Dean just wanted to take a goddamn shower. He tossed over, his back facing away from Castiel. "A lake monster. We killed it before it killed this one kid. Not sure if the kid's okay, though. She seemed pretty scared about the whole thing."

Castiel nodded, listening to Dean's short summary of the recent attack. "I'm sorry to hear about that."

"Why're you sorry? _I_ wasn't the one that got scarred for life. It was the kid," Dean responded almost instantly. He closed his eyes and breathed out another huff. He didn't expect Castiel to reply back because he made such an effort to point out that he didn't want to be bothered by talking with the ethereal creature. But Castiel did continue to carry out the conversation. "God," he whispered to himself, peeled his eyes open, and tossed around, now facing the man in the trench coat. "Dude, no offense, but can you please stop freakin' talking to me? I'm tired and I want to take a shower and-just… Cas, please. Let me rest or something." With the comment, he closed his eyes again.

That made Castiel shut up. He just stared at Dean for about a minute before glancing to a wall. Silence grew except for the water dripping down from inside the bathroom and Sam's humming. Then, a loud noise erupted which made Castiel jump. The noise came from Dean. A sneeze. "Dean?"

"Yeah, dude?" Dean sniffled and let out another involuntary sneeze.

"I think you're sick."

"M'not sick, shut up." A still very irritated Dean retorted and sniffled, opening his eyes.

Castiel wasn't very convinced and leaned closer to Dean, resting his palm on Dean's wet forehead. He felt hot, contrasting his own somewhat cold skin. "Dean, I think you're sick," he said once again in a much more stern tone. "I suggest you take some medicine."

"We don't have any medicine," said Dean, slapping Castiel's hand away from his personal space. "I'll be fine, anyway. Just allergies or something."

The self-proclaimed God turned his stare into a bit of a menacing one. "Dean."

"What, man?" He flung his hand in the air, exhibiting a groan. "I'm not sick! You don't have to play Doctor with me, Castiel. I'm fine," he reassured, returning Castiel's glare.

The black-haired man grew angry with Dean's idiocy - or, something that he would describe as idiocy - but didn't allow himself to express it. It would have only made things worse. Instead, Castiel placed his hand back on Dean's forehead. "You're still hot."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I know I am, thank you."

"I didn't mean it…" He didn't pick up on the sentence. He knew that if he had said something, it would just make Dean give out more excuses. "Dean, listen to me. You are sick. I suggest you take some medication."

Before Dean could say anything, the bathroom door flung open and he saw Sam exit with a towel covering the bottom half of his body. "Finally!" He called out and began to slide out of the bed toward Castiel. When Castiel didn't bring his hand away from him, Dean moved his head to lick at Castiel's palm, causing the other man to retract it away from him with disgust. "Thank you." The Winchester slid away from the bed and walked toward the bathroom, removing his wet shirt on the way there.

Sam simply rolled his eyes at witnessing the childish act Dean had done to Castiel. He moved toward the wet bed and knelt down, an arm rummaging around under the mattress. After some time of groping around, Sam tugged a bag from under the bed and unzipped it, taking a set of dry clothes from it. "What are you doing here, Cas?"

"I just wanted to see you two. I see that you guys are doing well," Castiel said in a polite tone, wiping his saliva-soaked hand onto his coat. "I believe Dean is sick. You should get him something to cure that." He saw Sam give him a nod and returned it. "I should go."

"Really? You just got here."

"I have duties to attend to, Sam." Castiel reminded and without waiting for a reply, he disappeared from the motel room, arriving back to heaven. Scrunching his face together, Castiel felt the innards of his nose tickle. Contorting his face even more, the God brought forth an alarming sneeze. "Nng." Castiel shook his head and wiped the dripping mucus from his nose onto his coat's sleeve. "I'm sure it was nothing." And with that, Castiel went back to renovating his perfect palace.


End file.
